


Your Fingers (Wrapped Around My Throat)

by Serenityreview



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Biting, Canon-Typical Violence, Choking, Dubious Consent, Implied Relationships, Implied Sexual Content, Kidnapping, M/M, Not A Fix-It, Not Beta Read, POV Multiple, Unhealthy Relationships, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-12 01:29:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7915093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serenityreview/pseuds/Serenityreview
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>2x20 Canon Divergence</p>
<p>Things take a different turn when Oliver confesses something to Slade.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Fingers (Wrapped Around My Throat)

**Author's Note:**

> I actually haven't finished watching the second season of Arrow but I was spoiled anyway and I ship Slade/Oliver too hard to hold back on writing this angsty plot bunny. This fic is partially inspired by a scene from Strongholds of the Mind (seriously go read that fic it is amazing) and the last of scene of End of Evangelion. Feel free to leave me some concrit.

Oliver ceased his useless struggles at the iron grip around his neck and instead looked into the eye (this is your fault, a traitorous part of him whispered) of the madman he used to love (you liar). Oliver reached up with one hand to cup Slade’s cheek, wishing once more that things between them was uncomplicated and straightforward. Truth was he never stopped loving the other man; he didn’t know how to and finding out Slade was alive was simultaneously the best thing and the worst thing that happened to him. (The truth was he wanted Ivo to kill him because he thought Slade was dead.) 

“I’m sorry.” Oliver whispered as he offered up the only truth that mattered, “I love you.”

His hand slid down the side of Slade’s face as his vision fades to black.

-

Moira Queen can only watch in horror as Slade Wilson wrapped his hands around her son’s throat. Her beautiful baby boy was dying at the hands of a madman she allowed into her home. She couldn’t look away. She owed Oliver at least that much. Yet again she had failed her children.

Then she watched as Oliver touched his hand to the other man’s face in a move that almost seemed tender. Oliver’s lips were moving but she couldn’t make out the words, but whatever her son said seemed to do the trick because Wilson ever so slowly let go of Oliver’s neck. Moira was blinking away the tears in her eyes, as she perceived the ever so slight movement of her son’s chest. Oliver would live it seemed. Then Wilson was moving, he slid his arms under Oliver’s shoulders and knees. Moira watched as the older man picked up her son as if he weighed nothing and walked towards the car. Thea was beside her screaming obscenities at Wilson and all she can do was watch as the madman disappears into the night with her son. 

It was John Diggle who finds them in the end. He drove her and Thea to the hospital and contacted the police from there. For once it was not Quentin Lance that interviewed them. She doesn’t know whether she was grateful for that or not. 

It was later, much later when she finally allowed herself to reflect upon how intimate the touch Oliver gave to Wilson was; or how the way Wilson carried Oliver to the car reminded of her of Robert on their wedding night. He had insisted on sweeping her off her feet and carrying her across the threshold bridal style. It still hurt her to remember that night. (Oh god, Robert. I failed our children.) She wondered what exactly happened between her son and her deceptive campaign donor to lead to this show of hostility and ill will. 

Oliver showed up at the house a few days later looking worse for wear but alive and breathing. That was all she could ask for. Oliver gave his statement to the police and refused to press charges. He also refused to talk about what happened. Moira sees the finger shaped bruises on Oliver’s neck and wrists and wonders.

-

Thea opened her eyes to darkness before realizing that she can’t move her arms. She panics as her eyes adjusted to the dim light. She sees her mother besides her. She realized someone had tied both of them up. She was really getting sick of being kidnapped. Then she sees her brother lying on the ground in front of her. He was unconscious and there was blood on his forehead. He wasn’t bound like her and their mother. Slade Wilson was there and Thea wasn’t sure on what to think about that. Then Oliver twitches and his eyes flutters open. He seemed to be disorientated. 

“Oliver! Oliver!” She cried out as her brother slipped in and out of consciousness. She hoped the car crash didn’t give him a concussion. 

And then Mr. Wilson was there with a gun giving Oliver an ultimatum. Asking him to choose between Thea and their mother. Thea doesn’t understand what was going on but Oliver looked shattered. 

“Please don’t.” Oliver begged.

“Choose.” Mr. Wilson demanded. 

“Just kill me.” Oliver sobbed and Thea’s heart skipped a beat. 

“I am killing you Oliver, just slower than you’d like. Now choose.” The older man demanded again. 

“The last time this happened I chose me. I put myself in front of Ivo’s gun. I wanted him to kill me even though I knew he would have killed all of us anyway.” Oliver said, his voice cracking. 

Thea gasped horrified at the revelation but she still didn’t understand. Oliver knew Mr. Wilson from somewhere (possibly the island?) and was made to choose between two people by some sick freak and now Mr. Wilson wants revenge on her brother. 

“Don’t you fucking lie to me, kid. You let her die.” The deranged man growled at her brother, “She was yours until you chose another woman over her.”

“Shado was her own person, and that wasn’t what happened!” Oliver exclaimed.

“Yes it is! She told me!” Mr. Wilson yelled.

“Slade-”

“She told me!” The older man insisted as he gestured to the empty space behind him. There was no one there. 

“She’s died! She can’t tell you anything! The Mirakuru is making you hallucinate Shado!” Oliver was the one screaming now. 

Thea wondered just who this Shado person was. Then Mr. Wilson dropped the gun and lunged at Oliver, tackled him to the ground and wrapped his hands around her brother’s throat and squeezed. Thea closed her eyes and screamed. She didn’t want to watch her brother die. When she dared to open her eyes again Mr. Wilson was carrying Oliver’s prone body away. She curled up and cried. 

-

Slade stared at the unconscious form of Oliver Queen and pondered at the kid’s last minute confession. Shado had disappeared as soon as those words left Oliver’s mouth. Slade can see the bruises that had formed on the pale unblemished skin of the kid’s throat. It made him feel something that he cannot fully grasp. So instead he opened the buttons of Oliver’s shirt to get a better look at the marks he left there while he waited for the kid to wakeup. 

He would never forget the feeling of the kid’s hand sliding against his cheek.  
-

Oliver didn’t expect to wake again, but he was still alive and handcuffed to a bed. He didn’t expect this either. He looked around at his new surroundings; it appeared to be an abandoned warehouse of some sort (and wasn’t there a lot of those around Starling City) and someone had undressed him. He tugged at his restraints trying to figure out a way out of here. Slade then stalked out from the shadows and Oliver tensed. 

“My mother and sister,” Oliver began but Slade interrupts him, “I left them intact. I’m sure your little friends can find them.”

Oliver sags in relief. He still can’t figure out why Slade didn’t just kill him when he had the chance. He tried to sit up but Slade leaned over him and placed his hand on Oliver’s chest, directly over his heart, and Oliver stills. Slade’s hand on his skin felt like a brand. 

Slade trailed his hand down towards the scars on Oliver’s abdomen, touching and prodding at every visible scar along the way. Some were new and others were old. Oliver couldn’t help but to tremble under the Australian’s touch. It was something from a lifetime ago on that godforsaken island, a fantasy long buried under guilt and hatred but the feel Slade’s hand against of his skin was everything he thought it would be. Then Slade gripped his hips painfully tight with both hands, causing Oliver to inhale sharply at the sudden flare of pain under those too-warm hands, but he doesn’t look away from Slade’s face.

Slade then released Oliver’s hips and admires the red imprints he left there. It will bruise up nice and purple in a few hours, after that it will turn tender and green before fading away completely. And that was the thought Slade hated the most, he wanted to mark that pale, soft skin permanently. Expect he also wanted to preserve that beautiful skin so he can mark it over and over again. He wanted to destroy Oliver Queen completely but he also can’t stand of thought of Oliver Queen dying. The moment he felt Oliver go slack under his hands he panicked, the actuality of Oliver Queen dying and leaving him alone filled him with dread. 

Without any warning he bites down hard at Oliver’s wrist leaving an angry red mark there, before moving on to his other wrist. Oliver groans but stayed still. Slade moves on to bite at the American’s shoulders and neck making him yelp in pain, but Oliver doesn’t protest any of it. Slade then kisses Oliver rough and sudden and Oliver forgets how to breathe, he reached up and wrapped his arms around the other man’s neck. Slade was surprised when Oliver kisses him back with matching ferocity. Slade wanted to keep Oliver here with him forever. Slade also wanted to never see Oliver’s face again. He wanted to tear Oliver open and crawl into his skin. He wanted to snap Oliver’s neck and leave him to rot. 

“I hate you.” He whispered against the younger man’s neck. 

“I know. I’m sorry.” Oliver apologized. Slade could hear the sincerity in his voice. 

At that Slade pulled away to admire his handiwork – red teeth marks over patches of pale skin. The contrast was beautiful to behold. It was so beautiful that he had to step away. Oliver’s eyes followed him as he disappeared into the shadows. The vigilante closed his eyes as his heart shattered all over again. 

-

Oliver walked into his room and collapsed on to his bed. His body aches. His skin is covered in bruises that Slade had inflicted. He had no idea what day it is or how long he had been gone. He had no idea where Slade was after waking up alone in the abandoned warehouse with his restraints removed. He managed to find his way home. Thea and his mother cried and hugged him. He gave his statement to the police, leaving out all the important details as usual. (No, he really had no idea where Slade Wilson was. And no, he’s not pressing charges.) 

He looked into the bathroom mirror to assess the damage done to his body. Slade never broke his skin but left a lot of nasty bruises with his teeth and fingers. His torso was a patchwork of purples and greens. His neck, wrists and hips had distinct finger shaped marks. Slade seemed to be obsessed with leaving his marks on the CEO’s skin. He stepped into the bathtub and tried to forget. He doesn’t succeed.

-

Slade left Oliver on the bed in the warehouse. He had removed the restraints from the younger man’s wrists. He then drove out of the city without saying a word to anyone. Isabel Rochev and Sebastian Blood can deal with their own problems by themselves. Starling City and Robert Queen were only ever tangential to his goal. (Oliver Queen will never be tangential to anything.)

Speaking of Oliver, he was sitting in the passenger seat of the car (expect that’s not the real Oliver, he left the real Oliver to his fate) humming something under his breath. There was a breeze moving his long dirty-blond hair (expect the windows are closed and Oliver cut his hair when he got off the island) and he was smiling at Slade. (Oliver says to him, let’s leave and never come back.) Slade smiled back, that was all he ever needed.


End file.
